


There is No Exile Without Reason

by imagineash



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Betrayal, Character Analysis, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Mention of blood, i'll add more tags as i go on, mention of injury
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:01:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27889441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imagineash/pseuds/imagineash
Summary: Tommy could feel his anger rattling around inside him, felt grief pulling at him like a tacky second skin. He felt like his head was about to explode and his heart was about to give out. He couldn’t compartmentalize the emotions he felt, couldn’t distinguish where his grief began and his anger ceased, couldn't believe the worst scenario had struck him once again. The onslaught of thoughts clouded Tommy’s brain, make or break, the boy was desperate for clarity-- for a moment of calm, cool connectedness in the suffocating heat of shit he was in. For a split second, a chill stuttered through him, wracking his posture straight and pulling his wounds. The cold would mean clarity, the cold would numb his wounds, the cold would cool his feverish panic, so Tommy sought the direction the chill had come from. He broke into a sprint.Basically, Tommy is exiled and stumbles upon Techno's new home. The two finally put into words what their actions have shown for so long and, hopefully, return to each other's good graces. Also, I started writing this 12/03, before Tommy was actually exiled, but it's basically the same sans Dream guiding him and Wilbur following him. Tommy's alone until he's not.
Relationships: Dave | Technoblade & TommyInnit
Comments: 13
Kudos: 244





	1. Turmoil is Just Fuel for the Funeral Pire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Might be a little OOC, but I needed them to talk to each other even if it is just fiction.  
> The last video I watched before writing the first chapter was Techno's new home live stream on 12/03.

Tommy could feel his anger rattling around inside him, felt grief pulling at him like a tacky second skin. He felt like his head was about to explode and his heart was about to give out. He couldn’t compartmentalize the emotions he felt, couldn’t distinguish where his grief began and his anger ceased, couldn't believe the worst scenario had struck him once again. He could feel his emotions like a physical pain, could feel it flicker-- anger over his supposed best friend’s choice of the government over him, lament over the loss of his best friend, rage at the finicky people within the government that Tubbo had chosen over him, he grieved oh god Tubbo really chose them over him, desperateness cloying to stay on the land he had lost once and again, fear of being exiled alone, anger at that stupid bitch Schlatt for kicking him out in the first place, anger at the puke motherfucker and his insufferable power trying to take Tommy’s TOMMY’s rightful discs-- the back and forth made him sick to his stomach. The onslaught of thoughts clouded Tommy’s brain, make or break, the boy was desperate for clarity-- for a moment of calm, cool connectedness in the suffocating heat of shit he was in. For a split second, a chill stuttered through him, wracking his posture straight and pulling his wounds. The cold would mean clarity, the cold would numb his wounds, the cold would cool his feverish panic, so Tommy sought the direction the chill had come from. He broke into a sprint, his legs hitting the ground hard enough to send jolts of pain throughout his spine, his entire body leaned forward almost cartoonishly as his feet sought purchase in gravely riverbeds and soft grassy hills, his heart beat until bursting but the feeling now had a physical reason to it that Tommy could dismiss. It was easier to say his brain was buzzing from adrenaline, it was harder to admit his brain was buzzing with regrets. He ran and he ran until his worn, tractionless shoes lost their grip on a patch of snow and he ate shit. Face plowing into a fresh pile of snow that shocked in a satisfying way after all the physical exertion he’d been through. Tommy rolled over, letting himself lay in the snow and letting the snow embrace him as no one else had in a long, long time.

He wasn’t sure how long he laid there, wasn’t sure if the numbness that engulfed him was the snow, emotional, or physical, but he was content to lay there… That is until a pair of rough hands grabbed his shoulders and he flinched from the sudden heat and unknown danger. How long had he been staring at the snow falling like Icarus? Unblinking with shallow breaths in a bloodied t-shirt, wet jeans, and soaking shoes?

“Tommy you’re gonna freeze to death we need to get you somewhere warm and fast.” The deep voice rattled in Tommy’s skull for a second before his stomach sank. How could Tommy forget the voice of someone he’d grown up with, previously admired, and currently hated? “Fuck off, I don’t need your help.” His stubborn admonition hung in the frigid air between the two as Techno held a lamp close to Tommy’s face. The wholly unwelcomed stimuli was just what Tommy needed to start an annoying tirade of whining and complaining, but before he could start he heard the trembling timbre of Techno’s voice, “Jesus, Tommy your- your lips are blue. You’re bleedin’ out. Please let me help you.” The sincerity, the utter concern, in Techno’s voice made Tommy want to beat the shit out of the man and vomit at the same time, but he found himself too tired to fight. Too tired to do much more than chatter his teeth and wonder how he hadn’t noticed just how cold it was until he’d reached this point. “I need you to talk to me Tommy, I need you to stay awake, okay?” Techno’s voice seemed distorted and far as he inspected the injuries to Tommy’s torso. “Tommy?” God, did Techno sound scared, hah. The Great, Massive TommyInnit striking fear into the renowned vassel of the fucking Blood God, could you imagine? “You’re not the boss of me.” He said instead as Techno let out the breath he’d been holding, before roughly unclipping his cape, wrapping Tommy in it like a burrito, and gently hoisting the lanky burrito of a man into his arms before sprinting home to the best of his ability without hurting the boy further.

Tommy lost track of where they were and how long it had been, but he felt a deep urge within his soul to be annoying. He felt the impulse to stay quiet and mess with Techno coat his mouth in honey, a tempting option for a weak man, but Tommy also felt a little guilty and was dependent on the man carrying him. TommyInnit, being the massive man and gangly child he is, wasn’t exactly light, but Techno breezed through the snow fast. His grip on Tommy deathly tight, but he kept fairly steady and Tommy had taken Techno’s cape so he had felt just a little bad for Techno. Just as well, Tommy didn’t particularly feel like dying quite yet. He could feel the enormity of the situation building pressure inside his skull until it was about ready to burst, but Tommy wasn’t done yet. God knows when he’d be done, when he’d finally be satisfied, but he knew that at this very moment, he wasn’t done yet. In order to survive, Tommy had to make sure he wasn’t going to die of hypothermia or frostbite and the best way to do that was to reach wherever ‘somewhere warm’ was. Therefore, he begrudgingly rambled about simple things to Techno. He discussed nothing about what had happened to him before this, discussed nothing about how he was feeling at the moment. No, he wasn’t strong enough to recall the entire event without letting out a shameful sob and having frost nip at seemingly never-ending trails of tears. He didn’t want to think about how the brother he had denounced was providing him more kindness than his own best friend in the day. No, Tommy didn’t want to think at all.

So he rambled, on and on with drooping eyelids and perpetual yawns until they were climbing stairs and Techno opened the door to a nether like inferno. Tommy let out a yelp as the heat stung his skin and swallowed him whole before he was led to a bathroom where Techno pulled out a new pair of clothes and a first aid kit. Techno gave him a silent once over and Tommy let out a groan, “I’m a big man okay, the cuts weren’t as bad as they looked. I’ve got a couple of cuts on my torso, a few grazes on my arms, and scrapes on my knees, but I’m okay.” Techno’s quiet sigh of relief and subsequent turn towards the sink gave Tommy enough privacy to change out of his wet, bloody clothes and into the newer clothes that Techno had given him. He checked for blackened limbs or bright red extremities, but there wasn’t much to note. Maybe he’d only laid in the snow for a couple of minutes stretched into hours in his fatigued mind. With a shake of his head, a shirtless Tommy hopped onto the counter next to the sink waiting for Techno to wrap him up--a routine deeply ingrained in his heart though he loathed thinking about. Damp towels and stinging rags wiped across his chest, but Tommy was dead set on staring into the corner of the room in attempts to keep himself from thinking about how similar Techno patching him up was to when they were younger. He tried not to think about how their old house had a bathroom similar to the one he was currently in, but the sink was a different shape and the medicine cabinet behind the mirror held secret candy for after their teeth were brushed, the idea courtesy of Tommy himself. He tried not to think about how he would stand up against bullies and end up with his own fair share of bumps and bruises for Techno to tend to or how Techno would back him up on how shitty people deserved to get the shit beat out of them-- that thought made him especially bitter. The flood of memories was unwelcomed but hard to stop. Tommy was a mere fly and the saccharine sweetness of summer nights spent watching movies together on the couch and smiles with teasing remarks accompanied by laughter all around the dinner table allured him with a false sense of safety and comfort. The thoughts of better times were sickly-sweet and left Tommy nauseated as the thoughts were always accompanied by nostalgic questions like, when did it all start falling apart? And when did the sugar start to rot, but we still kept forcing it down our throats in attempts to replicate the initial love we had for each other? Techno looked up from his finished bandages and wrappings on Tommy only to see the faraway look in his eyes. “Tommy, can you pull up your pant legs? You can put your shirt on now” Techno’s older, raspy voice canceled out the candy-coated voices torturing his memories and Tommy obeyed in a daze.

After his knees had been cleaned and bandaged Techno brought Tommy into the main room they had passed through before, “You can sleep on the bed.” Techno’s voice rang out as he descended a ladder and Tommy felt it was his chance to get one last quip in while Techno was too far away for his actions to have any repercussions, “It’s like a gazillion degrees in here and you want me to get under a stack of blankets? No thanks-” The yelp that left Tommy was, assuredly, very manly and deep as Techno dropped a pile of wood and potions onto a table before picking up the lanky boy and shoving him into the blankets with an affirming tuck on both sides to make sure Tommy couldn’t get out and wreak havoc while Techno fed the coals in his fireplace. “Is this where you fucked off to?” Tommy’s eyes roamed as he couldn’t, due to the sheer weight of all the blankets and exhaustion catching up to him from the day he had. “Yep, after I was foiled in my attempts of anarchy I decided to retire. Live a simple life” The dry comment gained an equally dry snort from Tommy as the boy readied an epic quip in his head before passing out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I don't fully understand hypothermia, but I can guess. Will be uploading the next chapter soon


	2. Nothing Good Stays Untarnished

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GOTTA WRITE FAST, GOTTA WRITE EVERYTHING OUT BEFORE THE REAL PLOT OF THE SMP KICKS MY ASS.

Tommy awoke warmer and to the smell of something cooking, the light in the room far too bright, and the bed a touch more comfortable than when he’d fallen asleep. Maybe Tubbo was making him something? Tubbo and Ranboo were the only ones who would enter his house without too much malicious intent, but to start cooking without burning the whole place down? Ranboo wasn’t close enough to him to be making food and… Tubbo. Wait-- Tommy sat up with a start, hearing the thump of several blankets hitting the floor and nearly punching himself in the face as he wiped his eyes and waited for them to adjust before he saw the room Techno brought him to last night. A wanton sigh left him, he wanted yesterday to be a hallucination, a nightmare, but the fact that he could feel his fingers and the pull of skin trying to stitch itself back together made it harder to pretend. The emotions set aside by fitful sleep settled themselves back into Tommy’s weary bones, they clung to him like he’d clung onto Tubbo... or at least the idea of Tubbo. The soft, kind boy who was ride-or-die Tommy’s best friend. The sassy, intelligent boy who would go on adventures with him, cheer him up, would defend him without hesitation, but-- no. No more thinking. Tommy couldn’t handle any more thinking about his Tubbo exbestfriend, not without the suffocating heat that wrapped his brain and the nagging at his soul for him to fuck shit up in retaliation. It’d be a little rude to ruin Techno’s new house after he’d saved him from hypothermia, patched him up, and let Tommy sleep on his bed, so Tommy opted to get ready in the bathroom. Washing his face revealed puffy red eyes with bruised color blooming from his eyebags previously hidden beneath stiff tear lines and dirt and blood. He was going to leave right after, but three toothbrushes stood where two were yesterday. With suspended disbelief, he was surprised to see a toothbrush with a piece of tape on it proudly proclaiming it as his and felt a twinge of childhood memories beckoning him to be devoured by them. A simple action, but the connections and consequences were still there. 

When Tommy exited the bathroom he saw two plates of rabbit stew, bread, scrambled eggs, and hashbrowns waiting for him and a certain Technoblade waiting in a chair with his back to Tommy, shining his sword, before hearing the creaking of wood and placing his gleaming sword against the wall, still near to the table. “You seriously made all this?” Tommy took the chair across from Techno, taking in the sight of food that smelled and looked like the ones from Ghibli movies. “Yeah I totally made all this, I didn’t sleep at all last night just to give you the best homemade meal you’ve ever had, because that's my specialty. Ratatouille has nothing on me.” A shit-eating grin from Techno announced what his monotonous voice couldn’t, although the small lilt and higher tone was blatant for Tommy-- you don’t just live with someone for 10 years without understanding, at least a little bit, their small quirks and ques. “How am I supposed to know what you do in your free time? You can farm a billion potatoes for a year, but you couldn’t possibly learn how to cook?” Tommy’s accompanying eye roll made the entire scene a little too domestic for his own liking. “Waste time learning how to cook instead of farming more potatoes? Unfathomable. Most meals I eat are either pre-cooked or raw potatoes for efficiency. I traded with the locals for the stew and bread, the only thing I know how to make are eggs and hashbrowns.” Techno accentuated the statement by ripping off a piece of bread for his stew and Tommy took that as his signal to start eating too. The food really was as good as it looked, Tommy made a mental note to trade with some of the villagers for some food before he… before he what? 

Returned to L’manburg, into arms that could embrace just as they could betray? Left to venture to the end of the world in his exile? No plan, no direction, where was he supposed to focus his efforts? His passion? Maybe wallowing in domesticity for a little longer wouldn’t be as terrible as he’d first thought, talking to someone about stuff other than politics and mistakes would be a welcomed change. 

“How would you even grow potatoes out here? The snow’s like… a foot deep.” The snowbank Tommy smashed his face into without damage was proof of that. “Potatoes find a way.” A simple reply or a simple question, at least to a potato master such as Techno himself. However wise Techno found himself to be, Tommy found the response to signify the exact opposite and the two squabbled over the logistics of growing anything in the breathtakingly beautiful, but frigid biome while enjoying the meal together. Tommy felt the disjunction between the treatment he’d faced in the tense atmosphere of L’manburg for the past 2 weeks and the kindness he’d received as of recently pull at his immersion in the conversation a little bit, but as warm food comforted his stomach and the easy conversation comforted his heart he just… allowed himself to be. To be in a cozy house. To be with his family, enjoying a meal. They were missing 2 of the 4 members, so it wasn’t a real family meal, but… but no. Tommy denounced Techno as his brother, the comradery that they had prior was ruined by Techno’s hands-- at least in the eyes of Tommy-- and with that thought, the warm atmosphere the two had built seeped into the cracks and crevices of Techno’s home, captured by cold reality of the outside world and left the two of them deficient. 

“Blade? Why did you betray us? L’manburg wouldn’t be in the state it’s in if you didn’t blow it all up and kill a bunch of us. I--I wouldn’t have been exiled if you didn’t cause all that trouble.” Tommy’s slouched posture in the chair exemplified his defeated tone. He wasn’t really sure if he wanted Techno’s real response or if he just wanted to voice his complaints, but either way, the statement floated in stiff air. Techno’s own demeanor sagged a little as he looked lazily around Tommy, but never directly at him. Eventually, a sigh broke the dam and Techno put into words what he’d been thinking about ever since the entire dilemma began. “I think there’s been a miscommunication between us from the very beginning.” He pulled his sword away from the wall and into his hands, simply observing it, “You wanted The Blade, but you got Techno.” The words rang out for a second before Techno continued.

“Me and my sword, we share many attributes.” Crimson eyes flicked between Tommy-- his littlest brother, the one who used to look at him with adoration, with shining eyes-- and the blackened blade in his hands. The blade emitting a sickening purple hue, honed and sharpened with the blood of those slain in the name of the Blood God as Techno continued, “A permanence to our actions…” He could still hear the screams of the fallen, “A foreboding presence…” A scoff drew his attention as he tore his eyes away from the sword and up toward the animated gestures of the boy with dulled blue eyes, the remnants of a strong fire-- the dying coals waiting for something to ignite. “But what separates me from my blade?” Tommy felt repulsion at the words, at the high and mighty tone from a man of violence; of someone who could only exude such confidence in his talent for bloodshed because he lacked proficiency in so many other things. “You’re a bitch and the sword isn’t?” Tommy chirped suddenly, placing a failing facade of carelessness upon his already overburdened and sagging shoulders to combat the other’s front of arrogance, trying to spark frustration and anger because those were much easier to handle; he understood anger, he understood frustration, he didn’t want to couldn’t understand what Techno was trying to get at. 

“Simply speakin', you can’t disregard me after the fighting’s over. My sword can be put aside, used as a symbol of a war won, but me? I’m not nearly as inanimate, not nearly as complacent to sit to the side and let you violate the principles I was entirely transparent about-” Hands slammed on the table, an expected but unfortunate interruption as the kindling caught and Tommy yelled, “You wanted to destroy the government! We wanted to get the land back! What right do you have to be upset when you got to destroy both?” Escalate the situation, take the control from Techno and learn nothing as adrenaline enters raging blood, set civility on fire and allow the flame to eat away at the integrity of the structure until everything crumbles, escalate the situation. “You kept talking about how you weren’t a traitor, how you were on Pogtopia’s side, but what exactly did you do to-to prove that? You’re all talk! You would just say shit, but when the time came to prove your loyalties you always folded! You promised to protect Tubbo, but you shot him dead. Quick? Painless? IN WHAT WORLD IS BEING SHOT WITH A MASSIVE FUCKING FIREWORK PAINLESS? You promised to help us, but you were the fall of L’manburg! You lit TNT that wrecked the fucking land and then you started SLAUGHTERING the people! They take damage from TNT and then they get the shit beat out of them with fireworks? They’re traumatized! You didn’t even care if they were friend or foe, the people of L’manburg or Schlatt’s men! The people make the country and you KILLED them! Then you started spawning in FUCKING WITHERS! A two in one deal, huh, Techno? You don’t have principles-” 

Technoblade’s hands were steady, his posture regal, but his eyes betrayed the anger simmering beneath the surface as he interrupted, “I. AM. AN. ANARCHIST. TOMMY! I told you that on the first day I joined the server, but you didn’t hear me. You still haven’t heard me this entire time! You keep spoutin’ this trash about me agreein’ to help you, but you don’t seem to remember that I agreed to help you DESTROY THE GOVERNMENT! And that doesn’t mean Schlatt’s Tyrannical Government, all governments are tyrannical, I meant ALL GOVERNMENTS.” Tommy’s mouth was open with a rebuttal, his face a muddled red from anger, but Techno wasn’t about to give him a chance. The weariness of the same conversation repeated and argued for the thousandth time had settled in his bones like a cordycep, he needed Tommy to hear him this time, “I helped you destroy the government and then you started a new one right in front of my eyes! Wearin' armor I gave you! Wieldin' weapons I made you! Towerin' over the newly freed land that I slaughtered your enemies for! It’s not a betrayal that I tried to end your government too because you knew full well the consequences of your actions because I EXPLICITLY told you my beliefs! Not only that, but I might as well be one of Schlatt’s lackeys because I didn’t win! No one respected the one goal I had! No one thought ‘oh maybe we should tell the anarchist that this isn’t your typical government overthrow, but a coup d’état no one even thought to inform me about important shit like how Tubbo was supposed to give a signal for us to kill Schlatt at the Festival? Or, I don’t know, that you were plannin' on making a new government after we destroyed the old one!” Techno’s shoulders heaved, suddenly heavier when the weight of his words should have taken a load off his own. 

A tangent of stuttering repetition from his previous argument flew from Tommy’s mouth and out the other ear of Techno’s before a sudden thought came dashing through his head as his brain lagged to understand and interpret the information presented to him, “Wait, shut up for a second Tommy.” The responding scoff was all Techno needed to interject his revelation, “I didn’t set off the TNT at L’manburg, I was sitting in the audience same as you and then Wilbur pressed the button--” the panicked look on Tommy’s face was proving his theory to be true, “Why are you blamin' me for what Wilbur did?” The million-dollar question, the revelation that neither of them wanted to admit to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! It started so soft... but nothin' good/happy ever seems to last on the SMP. Also, lowkey wrote this entire conversation first and figured there needed to be a lead up into this, so that's why chapter 1 was made lmao. Will be updating soon.


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